


The Longest Night

by Yrindor



Category: Uragiri wa Boku no Namae wo Shitteiru (Manga)
Genre: Angst, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentioned Fujiwara Isuzu, Mentioned Luka "Zess" Crosszeria, Serious Injuries, Suicide Attempt, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yrindor/pseuds/Yrindor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hotsuma struggles to come to terms with himself and his power after his suicide attempt leaves Shūsei severely injured.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Longest Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rose Argent (roseargent)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseargent/gifts).



> All characters belong to Odagiri Hota.

It was Luka who first felt the flare of Hotsuma's fire, and it was Luka who was the first to arrive on the rooftop and pull Hotsuma off of Shūsei when the paramedics arrived. It was Luka who bore the brunt of Hotsuma's anger as the young man fought to get back to his partner's side. But it was Takashiro who finally calmed Hotsuma down and brought him to the hospital. For many long hours, they sat in the hard chairs in the waiting room, waiting for any word of Shūsei. At some point, Tōko and Tsukumo joined them, worry clearly written on their faces

As soon as he was allowed to see Shūsei, Hotsuma rushed into the room and stopped dead at the sight of his partner's still, heavily bandaged form. "Shūsei, why?" he yelled, but then he broke and crumpled by the bedside, grabbing onto Shūsei's hand, seemingly the only part of him that wasn't covered in bandages or wires.

"I'm a monster," he shouted through his sobs. "I shouldn't even exist. Why didn't you let me die!? Why did you do this? You don't deserve this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please…please...come back. I need you," the last words were barely a whisper as his voice trailed off until the room was silent save for his ragged breathing and beep of the machines.

Several hours later, Tōko slid open the door of the room. "Hotsuma-kun?" she called softly.

"Go away," he shouted, voice hoarse from crying. "Go the hell away! Shūsei doesn't deserve to be seen like this."

Tōko stepped back out and slowly slid the door closed again. She said nothing, but that didn't stop Tsukumo from rising and pulling her in close. She sagged against him as he ran his hands through her hair.

After a few minutes, Tsukumo guided Tōko to an empty chair, not letting go as he sat down beside her.

"He's hurting, Takashiro-sama," Tsukumo said, inclining his head towards the closed door, "but he's scared too, and he's lashing out at anyone who gets too close like a wounded animal."

Takashiro nodded. "Leave him alone for now," he ordered.

"There's nothing we can do at the moment," he continued, holding up a hand to forestall Tōko's protests. "He's terrified of what he is, and he hates himself and what he did, but right now that's all secondary to his concern for Shūsei. If I had been paying more attention…" he trailed off for a minute, lost in his own guilt. "But the damage has been done, and all we can do is wait and hope Shūsei pulls through."

"And if he doesn't?" Tōko asked hesitantly.

There was a long silence before Takashiro responded. "I know of a single Zweilt in two thousand years who survived the death of their partner," he finally said. Tōko and Tsukumo said nothing, but they drew even closer, each clinging to the other tightly.

They were still like that several hours later when Isuzu arrived. Tsubaki had dragged him out from under his research and rushed him to the hospital as soon as Takashiro had called her with the news.

"How is he?" the doctor asked.

"Stable for now, but tenuously so," Takahiro said, rising from where he had been sitting near the door. "The doctors are giving him about an even chance."

"We should be able to do better than that. Tsubaki said something about burns?"

"Shūsei has severe burns from God's Voice over most of his torso. They're the main reason I called you in."

Isuzu stopped. "From God's Voice?" he asked. Then, more hesitantly, "What happened?"

Takashiro swallowed hard before answering. "Hotsuma tried to turn it on himself," he said finally. "Shūsei tried to stop him and ended up taking the worst of it."

"How's Hotsuma?"

"Physically? He's fine. Otherwise? Not good.

"We're just waiting for Luka, then we can go in."

"Luka?" Isuzu asked, and it was a sign of the seriousness of the situation that he didn't show any of his normal excitement at the thought of seeing the Opast.

"Just in case," Takashiro said by way of an explanation. Several seconds later, Luka turned the corner and strode purposefully down the hall, coming to stand next to Takashiro. He nodded once, and Takashiro slid open the door.

"Hotsuma-kun," Takashiro called, "Isuzu-sensei is here."

Hotsuma looked up from where he was crouching near the bed and glared at all of them, but he didn't say anything.

Isuzu walked to the bedside and took Shūsei's wrist, checking his pulse against the readout on the monitor behind the bed and making minor adjustments to several of the machines. Then he folded back the sheet to expose the bandages wrapped around Shūsei's chest.

"You might want to leave for this, Hotsuma-kun," he said as he began removing the tape that held them in place.

"No," Hotsuma replied flatly, still holding Shūsei's hand firmly.

"Then I need you to move down there," Isuzu said, pointing to the open space at the foot of the bed.

When Hotsuma didn't respond, Takashiro removed his hand from Shūsei's wrist and guided him gently but firmly to where Isuzu had indicated.

Hotsuma watched with a sick horror as Isuzu exposed Shūsei's chest. He was unprepared for extent of Shūsei's injuries, and the bile rose in his throat at the sight of the raw flesh that had been laid bare by his own hands. Over the bed, the heart monitor began to beep more quickly as Isuzu continued unwrapping the bandages.

"Stop," Hotsuma begged, fighting against Takashiro's firm hand on his shoulder, but Isuzu continued, seemingly unperturbed. "Please, stop. STOP!" Hostuma yelled, wrenching free from Takashiro's grip. To his horror, flames sparked to life around Isuzu, and with them came the memory of the smell of burning flesh and Shūsei's desperate cries.

Hotsuma fell to the floor, retching at the memories. The flames had barely sprung to life though when Luka pushed himself away from the wall. Purple lightning sparked around his hand, and the flames froze before shattering as if made of ice. Hotsuma only vaguely registered Luka's presence through the bile and the tears. He couldn't bear to look at what he had done, but he couldn't bear to look away either. It was all his fault. His lack of control. His temper. His damn cursed power.

A strong hand closed around his arm and pulled him upright. He tried to fight as he was led out of the room, but his body wouldn't obey. He was only semi-lucid as Luka half-carried him down the hall to the bathroom.

Tsukumo flinched as they passed, tears forming in his eyes.

"Tsukumo-kun, what's wrong?" Tōko asked.

"It hurts," Tsukumo replied, rubbing at his temples. "It's too raw, and too strong, and I can barely hear Hotsuma under it."

"Will he be okay?"

"If Shūsei is, then maybe, but if Shūsei doesn't make it…," Tsukumo trailed off. Tōko held onto Tsukumo even more tightly, and he slowly relaxed into her as the maelstrom of Hotsuma's mind faded as the distance between them increased.

Inside the hospital room, Isuzu continued to work, seemingly unaware of everything that had unfolded around him. Takashiro stood calmly by the side of the bed, unrattled by the recent events.

After some time, Isuzu straightened up and began replacing the bandages on Shūsei's torso.

"How is he?" Takashiro asked.

"He'll live, though his recovery will take some time."

Takashiro sagged, letting out a sigh of relief. "I'll let the others know," he said weakly.

Tōko and Tsukumo both looked up sharply the minute he slid open the door. "He'll live," Takashiro said as he sat, looking pointedly at the wall across from him to give the siblings some semblance of privacy. It wasn't long before Isuzu emerged from the room as well and went to speak with the hospital staff.

Several minutes later, Luka returned with a very pale Hotsuma. The boy had calmed down somewhat, but the recent events were clearly taking a toll on him, and he didn't look much better than his unconscious partner on the other side of the door. When he saw Takashiro sitting stiffly by the door and Tōko and Tsukumo holding one another with tears streaming down their faces, he tried to prepare for the worst. He couldn't get the words out to ask though, and his knees were threatening to buckle under him as he tried to wrap his head around the idea when Takashiro quietly said, "he'll live."

Hotsuma choked on a sob and wrenched free from the supporting hand Luka had had on his shoulder. He stumbled through the door and knelt hard by the bedside. The sun was just beginning to peek above the horizon, but he didn't notice as he gripped Shūsei's hand tightly, oblivious to anything other than his partner.

"Shūsei," he whispered hoarsely, "you'd better come back. You'd damn better come back, and I won't even complain if you want to yell at me for being an idiot. Heaven knows I've been doing enough of that myself."

Hotsuma trailed off into silence, but the boy on the bed didn't respond, still deeply unconscious. He didn't try to fill the silence after that, but he didn't move either. Several times, the door to the room slid open, but the fierce look in his red-rimmed eyes prevented anyone from entering. As the day wore on, the lack of sleep and emotional drain started creeping in on him, but he held them off through sheer force of will. He couldn't rest, not until Shūsei came back.

The sun was setting when Shūsei's fingers finally twitched in his palm, startling him out of his haze. "Shūsei?" he asked, looking up at his partner's face, carefully avoiding looking at the bandages that covered Shūsei's chest.

Shūsei blinked slowly several times, fighting his way back through the drug-induced haze. "Hotsuma-kun?" he asked weakly.

"Shūsei-" Hotsuma squeezed Shūsei's hand tightly.

"What were you thinking, trying to go somewhere without me?" Shūsei whispered.

"I'm sorry," Hotsuma replied, and with the confirmation that his partner truly was still there, all of the exhaustion of the past day finally overtook him, and he passed out where he knelt, clutching Shūsei's hand tightly in his sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide, Rose Argent. I love Hotsuma and Shuusei's relationship, so I couldn't help but write a treat for your prompt. Hopefully it isn't too dark.


End file.
